


Imperative

by systemscheck



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Mating Cycles/In Heat, Other, Productivity Goals, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/systemscheck/pseuds/systemscheck
Summary: It's an order neither of them can refuse.
Relationships: Megatron/Shockwave
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Imperative

A few metres away from the entrance to one of his secret labs on Earth, Shockwave halted and transformed, travelling the rest of the way on foot. Without any information on whoever had triggered this particular facility’s intruder alert, he thought it would be wiser to overestimate their hearing range and avoid making excessive noise. A transformation sequence was definitely far too loud. 

His frame had not been built for stealth. Pistons whined as Shockwave laboriously stepped around bits of broken plexiglass. From the looks of it, extreme force had been applied to the interior windows looking into various rooms as if the intruder had been too stupid to try the door. Machines had been tipped over and lay damaged beyond repair on the floor, beeping piteously. 

Perhaps an animal had gotten into the place. 

Given the elaborate series of defensive measures that Shockwave had taken great pleasure in designing, this occurred more often than expected—which was not at all. His facilities on Earth were located a decent distance away from major population centres. At the very least, the silently lethal mechanisms wired into the nooks and crannies of every one had proved ultimately successful in neutralising unauthorised entrances. The only downside was the difficulty of cleaning up afterwards: Shockwave had built the traps with Autobots in mind yet the only thing the security system had dealt with thus far were members of the local fauna. They were of a species he understood were called “humans” in one of the native dialects although the Decepticons generally referred to them as nuisances. These inquisitive bipeds stumbled into Decepticon territory to their own peril. 

Shockwave shuddered internally at the memory of scraping up the iron-rich smears that resulted from their last visit. If he saw a single trace of those creatures a squad would have to be called in to disinfect the place three times over. 

As Shockwave crept past the wreckage, wincing at the sight of smashed cabinets and wanton destruction, he realised that he had to revise his initial assessment: there was no way one of those puny flesh creatures could have inflicted this level of damage. He was dealing with another Cybertronian here. Perhaps this incident would serve as the catalyst to change his mind on hidden cameras. He hoped not, seeing that Soundwave would be able to access whatever footage was recorded regardless of whether or not Shockwave granted him access. 

Shockwave boosted his cannon to full power and raised it, preparing for the Autobot confrontation he had been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading. Killing one of them would do well in shutting Starscream up, that obnoxious seeker had been crowing over offlining some scout for half a solar cycle— 

A dull, heavy thud jolted Shockwave into focus. He glanced around. Nothing nearby seemed to have fallen. 

Shockwave glided down a few corridors and stopped at the threshold of the room where the sound seemed come from, spark thudding madly in his chest. Activating the electroshock field covering this particular room would still give the intruder a few seconds to respond. He would have to take this Autobot by surprise, rely on the fact that a single shot from his cannon would definitely be fatal at close range. 

Shockwave stuck his arm inside and opened fire. 

Colourful clouds of dust obscured his vision almost at once. In his haste, he had forgotten that this was a storeroom filled with powdered compounds. Still, he managed to hit something vital. Whoever it was shouted in pain, allowing Shockwave to briefly savour a sense of success before his cannon was painfully wrenched to the side, pressed between his back and the wall that the mech had shoved him against. 

Shockwave struggled ineffectually against the strong grip. Moving only served to drive those sharp clawtips further into his plating, there wasn’t any point in trying to break free. 

A cloying terror surged through his circuits as Shockwave abruptly recalled that no Autobot possessed claws and—and only one Decepticon was powerful enough to hold his frame like that, like he could be crushed into scrap at any moment. 

"My liege," Shockwave said, or at least tried to: the fifteen mechanometres of sharpened steel pressed against his neck cabling made it difficult to emit anything more than a squeak. Even ventilating was proving to be a challenge—exhaling too hard might well bring him the fatal micron closer to slicing open a fuel line. As the dust settled Shockwave’s optics could now helpfully transmit directly into his brain high-reso images of things like the enormous scorch mark decorating Megatron’s right shoulder. The light glinting off the blade Megatron was threatening him with. And most clearly of all, the expression on Megatron’s face. 

He looked up, frozen, as Megatron glowered so furiously he could set Shockwave on fire with just the heat of that gaze. Shockwave was distantly aware that this rise in operating temperature was more likely due to a stalled air circulation cycle although it certainly felt that way. 

Shockwave relaxed just a fraction when Megatron retracted his sword. He remained pressed against the wall, though, pinned by the ferocity in Megatron's eyes. 

Paralyzed, he frantically ran through the possible Shockwave-related reasons behind his leader's wrath, besides an accidental assasination attempt. There were precisely zero. None of his recent activities had involved anything out of the ordinary. Nothing he had said or done recently seemed especially provocative. Upon his return to Decepticon ranks Shockwave kept busy with conducting research and development to shore up the forces stationed on this filthy mudball of a planet, refusing to get involved in whatever nonsense Starscream was always planning. He had even gone to the trouble of asking the resident medic for permission before conducting dissections on any injured Vehicons. Securing Knock Out's cooperation granted him a steady supply of specimens beyond repair but intact enough to provide insight on their inner workings. Aside from a few officers and the medical staff, the Nemesis was crammed full of these generic grunts. Shockwave hadn't considered the possibility that anyone important would be bothered by a few going missing. 

In retrospect, this could be turning out to be a serious miscalculation. 

Had Megatron been particularly attached to someone who ended up on Shockwave's examination table? Maybe he infiltrated this lab after hearing about the deal Shockwave had brokered with Knock Out, intending to lie in wait and enact gruesome revenge. A ridiculous notion, but Shockwave remembered how skimming through Soundwave's meticulous mission logs revealed that all sorts of absurdities had occurred during his absence. In a world where a tiny Autobot squadron managed to evade a fully armed Resurgent-class Decepticon warship time and time again for vorns Shockwave was fully prepared to accept that one of those flimsy drones had managed to secretly catch Megatron's optic. Being on Earth seemed to scramble more than a mech's humidity sensors. 

"Lord Megatron," Shockwave was finally able to say. His fear hadn't gone away, not exactly, but it was easier to react to an unexpected situation when his life no longer seemed to be in immediate danger. When Megatron was personally offended by someone the issue was usually resolved quickly and fatally. “You’re hurt.” 

Megatron glanced down at his shoulder. Singed wiring was visible through the layers of damaged armour. Thankfully, judging by the lack of Energon seeping out it looked like any torn fuel lines had been instantly cauterized. Shockwave didn’t think that Megatron was at any risk of shutting down, though he supposed that taking responsibility was the decent thing to do. Possibly, offering assistance had the added benefit of keeping Megatron from getting even more ticked off. 

He didn’t feel any guilt, of course. What was Megatron thinking he could achieve by breaking into Shockwave’s secret science sanctum without any warning? 

Megatron’s optics returned to meet Shockwave’s. The silence was unnerving. 

“I am utterly apologetic for causing you harm. Would you like me to conduct first aid? I have a medkit in subspace—”

“Does it contain a circuit disruptor?” 

Shockwave blinked. He had no idea, the damage sustained on his watch was usually fatal so he had never bothered opening up the kit. After he had retrieved it, Megatron snatched the box away before he could unlock it, ripping off the lid and riffling through the contents. Shockwave watched with growing trepidation as Megatron grew more and more irritated, throwing away assorted items while he searched for something that looked increasingly like it wasn’t there in the first place. 

Finally, Megatron growled and crushed the empty box in his fist. The fragments drifted down to join the mess of spilled powder coating the floor. 

“How can this entire place not have a single disruptor,” he demanded. “I can’t believe your budget doesn’t cover this sort of thing, Shockwave, you possess the singularly most expensive division in my army.”

“My work hasn’t required this equipment of late,” Shockwave said, deciding to omit the fact that he had stripped down the disruptors he had for their rhenium coils a few orns ago. 

Megatron made a frustrated sound, turning and slamming his fist into the wall. That was the same sound he had heard earlier, Shockwave realised. 

He bent down and picked up a small roll of solder that had fallen next to his foot. 

“Lord Megatron, I think seeing to your wound merits greater priority than obtaining a disruptor,” Shockwave said, privately wondering what the hell his leader wanted one for. 

As Megatron paced, fists clenched, Shockwave bravely moved closer and was rewarded with another incomprehensible bout of violence. This time he ended up knocked onto his aft with a glowing fusion cannon pointed at his face. 

Shockwave had no idea what he had done to invite that punch to the helm, but he didn’t wish to invite any more of these attacks on his person. Getting dented by their leader was an experience rightfully reserved for Autobots and traitors like Starscream. 

“I, I suppose you would know your own frame better,” Shockwave muttered. He shifted backwards, planning on making an ignominious exit when Megatron abruptly turned around.

“No,” he said. His jaw was set, and the cast of harsh fluorescent light onto his scarred frown made him look incredibly weary. 

Shockwave gave into the compulsion to ask again if Megatron wished for help. This time, Megatron didn’t respond at all for a long moment. 

“Are you aware of any other way to end a heat cycle,” he said. 

If Shockwave had been standing up he would have almost certainly fallen over in surprise. 

Now that he knew, though, the signs were obvious. The air surrounding Megatron’s frame shimmered in waves. That warframes ran hot was common knowledge but this level of heat production outside of combat was unprecedented. Given the unpredictable nature of Megatron’s emotional baseline, it was not difficult to understand how everyone else had written off his behaviour over the last couple of days. Shockwave wished he had picked up on the reason behind Megatron’s wild(er) mood fluctuations earlier. 

He eyed his leader with a look bordering on ‘reproachful’. 

“Not when it is already underway,” Shockwave finally replied. “If you had informed me at least a few days before I might have synthesized some kind of chemical dampener. Given a full orn it is possible to make adjustments in core system architecture and completely repress the cycle, although I was under the impression that most soldiers had these modifications done shortly before conflict broke out..?” 

Megatron nodded curtly. “The lower castes were already hacking their own codes, and once we had the resources Soundwave could easily make more permanent overrides. But it feels like something has corrupted the repressor subroutines.” 

Shockwave examined the shiny curve of Megatron’s chestplate with purely scientific interest. 

"I have a working hypothesis regarding Dark Energon, though more data is needed to truly verify my suspicions—"

"No-one will be going anywhere near my spark.” Megatron glared at Shockwave like he already knew about the dissections. 

"If you're thinking about those Vehicons, they were already far too injured to be repaired. Knock Out was going to dismantle them for spare parts," Shockwave protested. "And you are already well aware of Starscream's penchant for gross exaggeration..."

Shockwave trailed off as Megatron levelled an unimpressed look at him. Suggesting any kind of medical intervention was utterly futile anyway. At this point the only way to shut down his heat protocols would be by satisfying them. 

Venting his rage on the poor laboratory and Shockwave when he conveniently showed up may have granted relief from the building pressure exerted by the protocols, but enduring the stress was difficult even for the most solidly constructed mechs. 

It wouldn't take long before lust overrode conscious processing and completely suspended Megatron's ability to think, let alone lead. Shockwave was actually worried that the more thermally unstable carbonates would decompose due to exposure to the enormous heat source that was Megatron caught in the grip of a long-overdue cycle. As well as Shockwave could tell from the personnel records he was frantically running through his processor, Megatron had never taken time off for the maintenance cycles everyone was supposed to undergo. 

“Would you be open to, ah, resolving this the old-fashioned way,” Shockwave asked delicately. “Recall a subordinate or two to assist you in this difficult time…” 

Megatron sighed and crossed his arms. “Even discounting the sheer vulnerability in such a plan, one must consider specific personality conflicts. Soundwave would read far too much into such a request, Starscream is more liable to stick a knife in me than anything more useful and everyone else who isn’t a drone is conjunx with each other.” 

“I’m not practising polyamory with Knock Out and Breakdown.”

Megatron shot Shockwave an incredulous look. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Too late, Shockwave realised that he had gotten distracted by this ridiculous, offensive implication from the wider conversation. Still, it was interesting to note that Megatron had not included him in the pool of eligible underlings whom he had considered interfacing with. Was Shockwave’s frame simply not to Megatron’s taste, or had Megatron sensed the full extent of just how unconventional his chief science officer was? 

Trying to parse the nuances of social interaction made Shockwave’s processor hurt. He was distantly aware that the expression on Megatron’s face had changed somewhat. He couldn’t have articulated exactly why but it was making him uncomfortable. Being told off by Megatron in one of his rages would have been preferable to this strange feeling that Megatron was sizing him up, and not in a challenging way. 

“I suppose not,” he said. 

Shockwave didn't know if he was supposed to approach this issue fully conscious of their respective positions in the workplace hierarchy. Could he simply make a decision based on his own attitude towards interface? Whatever the case, he wasn't inclined to fraternize. Even before Shockwave had installed disabling overrides on his own protocols he had never felt particularly fond of physical intimacy. Penetrating the deep mysteries of the universe was far more appealing as compared to somebody else, and least of all his famously temperamental superior. 

Megatron didn’t look at all like he minded if Shockwave changed his mind, however. He had stopped pacing and was regarding Shockwave with a curious, almost expectant expression. 

Over the course of his scientific career Shockwave had been tasked with formulating a diverse range of plans involving varying degrees of success and immorality, but never before had he contemplated personally applying himself to a problem. 

Megatron stepped closer. With some hesitation Shockwave looked up to meet his optics, and then at the proffered hand with some confusion. 

“You best be going then, Shockwave,” Megatron said, grimly. “I will not be returning to the Nemesis for some time. Try not to let Starscream run it into the ground while I’m gone.”

Megatron hauled him to his feet. His palm was scorching hot. 

“Rest assured that everything will remain as you left it, my lord,” Shockwave said. 

Just before he was about to make his escape, Shockwave paused at the doorway. 

“I have some coolant, “ he said, then felt absurd about offering something so insignificant. Still, it could go some way in regulating temperature. Megatron nodded assent and followed Shockwave to the cellar where tanks of coolant were stacked up, grabbing a hose and inserting the nozzle to pour the stuff directly into his system. 

Megatron flexed his armour in relief when he was done. Hadn’t screwed the cap closed completely and Shockwave moved to take the dripping hose from him before the tank could drip dry. 

Once Shockwave’s fingers accidentally brushed Megatron’s he couldn’t draw away like their hands were magnetized together. 

Megatron glanced down at Shockwave and carefully pried his fingers off. 

“Signals must be getting stronger,” he said. Shockwave knew that he should leave before he got seriously affected. It felt wrong, however, to abandon someone in this state. 

When Shockwave told Megatron his leader’s expression became far less generous. 

“If this is an attempt to worm yourself into my favour—” 

Shockwave put things back in place on the equipment rack with more force than strictly necessary.

“I only wish to return you into some semblance of working order,” he said, bitterly insulted. 

Shockwave started up the stairs, intending to transform once he reached level ground so as to leave the ruins of his lab and his dignity at top speed. 

“Wait.”

Megatron’s voice made him stumble a little. Shockwave half-turned, unwilling to meet Megatron’s eyes when his own was flickering with equal parts indignation and shame. 

“I have never doubted you, Shockwave,” Megatron said quietly, sounding not so much like he was giving praise as stating a simple fact. “I am just—this is unexpected.”

Shockwave tilted his helm consideringly. “It is true that I do not care for interface, at least recreationally,” he allowed. “Will it bother you, that this offer is merely made as an extension of my loyalty to the cause?” 

He had always tried to be upfront with the mechs whom he interfaced with, back when bars were still standing on Cybertron and there existed options beyond the colleagues he sniped with at the workplace. 

Megatron smirked. “An interesting way to put it,” he said. “But you’re a little too far away to hmmm, extend your loyalty.” 

In one swift motion Shockwave ended up perched on the countertop that ran across one side of the room. Megatron wasted no time in positioning himself between his legs while Shockwave was still trying to get over literally being picked up. 

His spike emerged almost instantly. Shockwave knew that this was only due to his close proximity to a frame in heat, though he wasn’t any less embarrassed. 

Megatron made an appreciative noise, and then avoiding the urge to hyperventilate was challenging when Megatron began to touch him. His spike appeared terribly vulnerable in that clawed grip, soft and silver and so easily crushed. Shockwave reminded himself that the possibility of sustaining an injury, at least deliberately, was non-existent. He couldn’t bite back a moan when Megatron ran the edge of his thumb on the underside of his spike. Megatron was surprisingly gentle though he went faster than the pace Shockwave usually employed, and he rapidly achieved full pressurization. 

“S-stop,” Shockwave said. Megatron broke off and he nearly whimpered at the loss of contact. “Now is the ideal time to initiate joint interface.” 

Shockwave couldn’t really imagine telling Megatron to prostrate himself. Thankfully, Megatron took the initiative. He soon found himself positioned behind Megatron’s aft, increasingly uncertain as to how he would judge the efficiency of proceedings without any way to determine Megatron’s expression. At this point Megatron’s field was overlaid by a wash of arousal that made finer analysis impossible save for knowing that he was quite impatient. 

Circling the rim of Megatron’s valve with the tip of one finger, Shockwave observed with clinical fascination how the mesh rippled and cycled down, as if attempting to draw the digit deeper. Megatron gave a low hiss like he hadn’t expected that either. Shockwave patted his massive thigh in a manner he hoped was soothing and gently stroked at the valve.

Megatron had been evidently ready for ages. Too bad Shockwave preferred to err on the side of caution. Shockwave allowed his spike to nudge at the valve aperture, which parted easily to admit the very tip. Megatron simply pushed back and Shockwave registered the warmth of his insides with some surprise. They would have to take regular breaks for coolant, if Megatron’s systems were going to maintain this searing temperature for long.

Ultimately, Megatron’s verbal responsiveness gave Shockwave a rough estimate of how he was doing. 

“Hrrrrrrrrngh,” Megatron said. “Hmmmmmmmf!” 

Hearing these strangled noises had been initially alarming since they were eerily similar to the ones generated by other people Shockwave had been taking apart in a non-sexual context, though after Shockwave felt that they were accompanied by rhythmic pulses of Megatron’s valve he understood that this was a good sign. The coolant in the tanks sloshed a little as he drove into Megatron’s valve with all the grace of a tank, admiring the way his leader’s heavy armour plates flexed just so when he hit sensitive nodes. 

It was a pity that he would not be able to mention this particular performance review to his colleagues. Shockwave would have to make do with the knowledge that he alone was deemed worthy of fulfilling certain tasks. 

A week later, Shockwave’s optic flattened when he saw the delicate form of a seeker swooping overhead, following the Vehicon squad he had called in to conduct repairs. At least they had the decency to groundbridge several kilometres away so as to avoid Autobot tracking. 

Starscream pushed past him to survey the laboratory with a critical gaze—it was impossible to conduct any significant repairs when impeded by the lack of resources and a temporarily hypersexual warlord—which he finally turned onto Shockwave. 

Shockwave stared back, impassive. Aside from the wreckage, all incriminating evidence had been cleaned up to the best of his ability. Megatron was back to normal functioning and had already left to undo whatever Soundwave could not prevent from happening while he had been so occupied. 

“Is the damage structural,” Starscream asked. “I told the drones to prepare for every possibility, since your mistakes are always so costly. They can repair load-bearing walls, reinstall the utilities—” 

“Not entirely.” Shockwave sauntered off to tell the troops about the areas that did not require their attention. He had already gotten around to laying some pipe, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for making it to the end of this bizarre-o pwp, i just wanted to see service top shocky for once.


End file.
